Most of the time, I have been the one with the clip boards (where is my suit)
While the others, lay comfortably on the couch .. my dear patients (hahahaha)
While they speak of their hearts, their thoughts, depressions, and joy (I pray)
I take notes, and scribble endless (been verily artistic)
I multi task for the moments (think, do, tabulate, talk, expressions everything)
Finally, I conclude my diagnosis (positive input)
And I offered a cup of tea, coffee, biccays and .. (me, excluded)
There is a code of ethics
Hoping that my dear patients are unattractive, unsexy, unappealing
So that I would not care for them, more than I should
So that I won't want to see them too often
And if I do, I shouldn't feel that the couch is too cramped for both of us (OMG)
That I should be diagnosing you, instead of mentally undressing
That I didn't end up with a long billet-doux, fold and slip into your palm
And offer to do house call 24/7, and disclose my private number to call.
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